


My Spring

by Mother_North



Series: Attraction [15]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Desire, Longing, M/M, Masturbation, Mentions of Saitama - Freeform, Pining, Psychology, Rivalry, unspoken feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:42:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22305079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mother_North/pseuds/Mother_North
Summary: What a malicious jest of fate it is – to find an uncalled-for love with the coming of spring..?
Relationships: Nathan Chen/Yuzuru Hanyu
Series: Attraction [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1090473
Comments: 10
Kudos: 49





	My Spring

**Author's Note:**

> It’s written quite some time ago but I have decided to post it only now. 
> 
> Warning: Saitama.
> 
> I apologize in advance if it triggers someone. It was not my intention at all. I wrote it to get it out of the system way before the current figure skating season started.  
> RPF disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and it is not meant to offend anyone. It is a product of author’s imagination only. All thoughts, actions and emotions described below have nothing to do with reality.

*

“Concentrate!” Rafael’s voice is booming across the skating-rink and he is not even trying to conceal his irritation. “I know you’ve been away and the pause in your training was big but you have _to work_! You have to work _harder_ at every practice! Forget about coca-cola and your damned surfing board! You are not at a sunny California beach but on the fucking ice! C’mon, Nate, get back _here_!”

Arutyunyan is clapping enthusiastically and when he screams, air leaves his mouth in small silvery puffs. Nathan has already managed to forget the extent of coldness one feels while at the ice-rink. It’s always freezing in here.

Nathan furrows his brow, summoning the utmost of his concentration before launching into a jump. It’s a step out but, still, it’s better than the previous attempt.

His coach doesn’t look pleased in the slightest. Not at all.

“It’s all in your head, Nate! It’s a question of your priorities, understand?! You aim to get something you want, don’t you? Be it – first places, a commercial contract to promote breakfast cornflakes, “American figure skating messiah” status, “Quad King” title or… _wha_ t?! What is it that you _truly_ want?!” Rafael lets his emotions burst through, his stern voice ringing with indignation.

Besides, it’s far from easy not to flinch under the scrutinizing gaze of his steely dark eyes.

“Do you want Vincent to take your place..?” sniffs Arutyunyan scornfully.

A sharp rebuke reaches its goal and Nathan’s blood begins to boil slowly but steadily, a minute after a minute.

He shakes his head, vexed, and takes a deep calming breath through tightly gritted teeth. His whole body is throbbing dully because of exhaustion, muscles pulsing due to overstrain and limbs barely responsive, but Nathan reminds himself that there’s no malicious intent in his coach’s reproaches, it’s simply one of his methods to motivate him.

The policy of all stick and no carrot.

One more attempt of an uncooperative quad salchow finally ends with a clean landing. Rafael’s sigh of relief is conspicuously loud.

“See?! All you had to do was to try really hard! You want to win over _him_ , right? I know you do! To compete in the “Yuzuru Hanyu era”, one has to meet the highest of standards!” Rafael snickers dryly.

His post-practice hand shake is firm and there’s more sincere support and almost fatherly concern in it, than in the whole span of the training session.

_“I want to win over him again. I want to win over him again. I want to win again. I want him. Again…”_

Nathan is squeezing his eyelids hard and it’s a small miracle that he restrains from slamming his fist against the nearest wall in a bout of frustration.

Why his thoughts keep returning to Yuzuru over and over recently?

_“If someone lands a quad axel successfully, then it is going to be this guy, who is sitting next to me right now!”_

Nathan remembers everything so vividly.

Saitama can never be erased from his memory. It’s unforgettable: deafening uproar of the crowd, surface of the ice with thousands of plushies and various gifts thrown all over it, _his_ shining fragile silhouette in the “armour of golden feathers”.

Nathan got weak in the knees for the briefest of moments, suddenly feeling extremely lonely out there: ten thousand spectators in the sea of Japanese flags, each of their hearts beating for the one man only – _Yuzuru._

A wave of explosive energy swept over the whole ice arena, as the two-time Olympic champion finished his skate. The air itself seemed to be vibrating hotly, making his own blood run quicker in his veins. As though the time had stopped and his destiny was going to be decided in the four and a half minutes of his performance – another painful repetition of his Pyeongchang short program or maybe a completely new story...

The world around him faded into black momentarily, once he was done with his performance, but he was smiling.

_“They gave it to you! They gave it to you!”_

Rafael was clasping him in his arms, shaking by the shoulders. His heart was thumping wildly and his mind was a complete blank. He was searching _him_ with his eyes, albeit to no avail of course. Only way later, he saw a brief video by the Japanese TV channel of _him_ sitting backstage, his thin pale lips twisting bitterly, as he whispered “ _kakkoii”._

It was meant as a compliment or at least Nathan wanted to believe so.

The medal ceremony and the press-conference of the medalists flew by all too swiftly in a pleasant buzz of euphoria. Nathan was keenly aware of _his_ presence at his side all of the time, taking a squint at _him_ whenever he could, without appearing too obvious. He desperately wanted it to last.

Through the plain black fabric of V. Wang’s costume _his_ dainty fingers scorched Nathan’s skin. He breathed _him_ in, as they shared a quick hug, their bodies flush against each other. Rhinestones and braid lace of the “golden armour” seemed to sparkle under his fingers, prickling his palms. He could sense _his_ body heat and Nathan caught himself thinking that Yuzuru must never feel cold at the skating-rink unlike others.

Yet, Saitama became the exact place, where he once again realized that Yuzuru is a man of flesh and blood, a human and not some deity.

Leaning into him, Rafael was saying:

“We’ll find his most vulnerable spot and strike! Whether he is fully healed or not is not our concern! Who cares anyway! He is here to challenge you on his home playground and the whole nation is following his every step, every glance, every breath! Smile with self-confidence! If you only show a glimpse of weakness, he’ll eat you for breakfast, Nate! He is a very fierce competitor! Do you understand me?! ”

Nathan realized it himself full well. His coach was absolutely right, there’s no space for sentiments and compassion in a professional sport of serious results and great accomplishments. You have to simply do your job: countless hours of rigorous training, decalitres of sweat and tears – everything for the sake of several minutes of skate that truly counts.

There’s no right for a mistake.

*

Exhibition gala was planned on the following day. Nathan was watching, preferring to stand in the shadows, avoiding being in the limelight.

 _His_ figure looked disturbingly fragile – ephemeral even; a mirage of pale pink sakura petals, as _he_ was skating to soothing piano passages – ever elegant, flexible and graceful.

Nathan’s cheeks were burning, chest heaving.

Spring came into his heart like a violent tempest, catching him off guard completely, no matter how hard he tried to shake off the confusion it had brought along.

It’s not that Nathan didn’t know what it felt like to fall in love but this time it was something extraordinary and unexplainable, something to make you lose yourself and the whole notion of what is “right” and “wrong”; a forbidden longing for his archrival seized Nathan, making him utterly helpless, lost.

He yearned for his _Nemesis_ badly.

What a malicious jest of fate it is – to find an uncalled-for love with the coming of spring..?

“Nathan, please talk to me! What the hell is going on with you? Yes, I can shout and get to a boiling point in practically no time but I want you to always trust me!”

Rafael’s accent was always thicker when he became agitated and Nathan found it especially endearing. He tried to argue that it was due to mere fatigue. He searched for new excuses every time, never daring to share the shameful truth that rooted in the farthest corner of his troubled soul, eating at his sanity like a worm, day after day and night after night – torturously and incessantly, as he used to lie wide-awake for many hours in his lonely bed.

Still, it was better than the succession of obsessive visions of “unearthly angel in a cloud of rose-pearl petals”, which were getting more obscene with each passing night.

The fans did nickname _him_ a “sakura-fairy” for a reason and Nathan didn’t see a way out of his toils of seduction.

His imagination must be painting Yuzuru more beautiful than he is in reality, for no one _real_ could be perfect to such an extent.

Nathan remembered the sickly pallor of his face and the dark shadows beneath his eyes clearly, his scary thinness of a twig. A fascinating creature ready to throw away its bodily concerns for the sake of creating beauty on the ice or, perhaps, Yuzuru simply didn’t have much of a choice: a strain on the injured ankle had to be reduced by all means, hence the decrease of muscle weight.

Only in the aftermath, Nathan found out that his prime rival was skating on painkillers, wanting to give his all and burning with a desire to win in his homeland. The feverish intensity and the frightening edginess of his performance couldn’t leave one cold and unimpressed.

_A demon, demanding more gold on his sacrificial altar? The ice, demanding new victories from its most ardent acolyte?_

Maybe Yuzuru simply couldn’t exist without it and skating was as vital to him as an act of breathing.

Nathan would like to learn more about _him_ on a personal level. He would like to ask different questions if only a chance had presented itself. They seemed to be the two polarities: Nathan loved dogs, horizonless California beaches, sunlight and ocean breeze; Yuzuru, on the other hand, adored cats, couldn’t swim, despised beach pastime and avoided being exposed to a direct sunshine in order to preserve the alluring whiteness of his perfect skin.

It seemed that _his_ heart belonged exclusively to the ice and even the briefest touch of his lips in a masterfully executed hydroblade to its surface appeared as something natural and unavoidable, rather than fantastical – who else if not _he_?!

*

Of course Nathan knew about the so-called “Yuzuvier” among other things. It was not hard to find various sorts of fan videos and fan posts in the Internet but… were there any real-life basis for its existence..?

“I can’t do it without you”, “a special person for me”, “will be always supporting you” – it all took place for sure, but what was a degree of feelings hidden behind all these phrases..? Were these declarations of a merely friendly nature of the two mutually respected training partners or the things got further than calling the other “my figure skating wife” or dedicating a very specific quad salchow entry?

Nathan didn’t have answers to these nagging questions; the only things he actually had to rely upon were his own impressions and intuition.

While re-watching and analyzing the many of fancams shared online, he came to a conclusion that there definitely was some profound respect and camaraderie and perhaps even some unrealized sexual tension. Although, it looked to him that what had once been between them, is now left in the past (senior Fernandez’s Insta stories with endless kisses and love declarations to a new girlfriend served Nathan as an extra proof to his assumption).

Nathan hardly had any doubts that Yuzuru had one or several anonymous accounts – a person this meticulous about all things said about him (alone or/and about the two of them with Javier) would likely monitor all of the information spreading online.

Did it hurt him or maybe provoked a bittersweet tingle of nostalgia in his breast?

It looked to Nathan that Yuzuru appeared to be perfectly capable of continuing without Javier’s presence at his side, setting new goals and fighting his own battle, regardless of the words he had said in the heat of the moment while euphoria of Pyeongchang triumph was fogging his mind.

It’s embarrassing to ever admit it aloud but Nathan even considered asking Shoma his newly-found _object’s of obsession_ phone number during the time of their shared summer ice shows.

_“Hey, Soma, wake up! Give me Yuzuru’s phone number! Yes, I’d love to call him! What if I’d tell that I am dying to hear his sweet voice…Pretty please!”_

Still, it’s way more probable that the ground would swallow Nathan up first before he acquires enough courage to ask for Yuzuru’s phone number. Shoma did like to play a harmless, clueless, sleepy cute bean but he could actually add a one plus one and guess the true reason behind Nathan’s interest in Yuzuru. It’s one thing to act all _kawaii_ as a part of one’s public image but Yuzuru had once called Shoma a man with “titanium brains”, so who knows..?

Nathan found Yuzuru’s mysteriousness to be immensely attractive: his reclusive lifestyle, the unknown off-ice side of his personality, which intrigued him to no end. One had to gather fragments and tidbits of available information on Yuzuru, trying to make them into a whole full-scale picture. Nathan only had some of his personal observations to rely on, which were based solely on their formal interactions and Yuzuru seemed to be made out of contradictions, hard to grasp and elusive.

A cute kitten with an instinct of a coldblooded killer, a mouse not afraid of fighting a lion and becoming an ultimate victor at the end…No matter how you may call the phenomenon, Yuzuru is still Yuzuru.

“I like competing with Nathan! I think it is _fun_!”

Nathan’s heart is in his throat – Yuzuru’s “ _fun”_ may contain various implications but one thing is for sure – the challenge _is_ accepted.

*

_Masquerade._

Nathan is watching for the nth time, transfixed: the glove smashed against the surface of the ice in an authoritative and agressive gesture. It’s thrilling and it makes Nathan’s blood tingle. Yuzuru is an embodiment of a barely contained passion and despair and Nathan is suffocating with vicious desire, sitting in front of his computer screen with mouth agape and eyes glazed over with lust.

 _He_ is clad in tight black leather and bloody crimson (an exquisite contrast to his ghostly pale skin), reminding Nathan of an incubus that feeds on human’s hearts and adulation, dangerous in his bewitching charms.

Nathan opens the fly of his jeans, taking his semi-hard cock in his hand. He goes slow at first, eyes never leaving the screen. A lewd moan escapes his parted lips and he shudders from acute arousal, injected straight into his veins, his nerve-endings momentarily aflame. Watching Yuzuru like this is intoxicating – the god-like lines of his slender body, the way his sweaty skin is glowing in the light of projectors, his tempting plump lips and long neck that Nathan wanted to bruise with savage open-mouthed kisses…

Nathan imagines _him_ on his hands and knees, submissively getting the pounding, whining and screaming for more, thrashing in agonizing ecstasy. He wants to possess _him_ – his fingers in _his_ dark silky hair, while holding _his_ face down, fucking into _him_ brutally with all of his passion and need, as if there is no tomorrow.

Nathan spills on his fingers with a single sharp cry, his orgasm blinding in its intensity, almost to the point of being painful. His want doesn’t subside in the slightest, on the contrary – it only intensifies.

He slams the laptop lid shut, feeling simultaneously spent and unsatisfied.

“If Fernandez didn’t manage to fuck Hanyu through all the years, then he is either an idiot or a saint!” chuckles Nathan under his breath.

A steadily growing feeling inside his chest doesn’t evaporate into thin air with the coming of autumn. Nathan knows not what is lying ahead in store for them, as he is whispering with his chapped, bitten lips:

“You are my spring, Yuzu...”

*


End file.
